


Gravity

by PSiwrotethis



Category: Dexter (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-03
Updated: 2013-11-03
Packaged: 2017-12-31 08:24:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1029482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PSiwrotethis/pseuds/PSiwrotethis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some days were harder than others. Some were unbearable. On the nights when she felt particularly guilty, Joey would wake to find her sitting on the floor of their porch, rocking herself back and forth, a bottle of whiskey in one hand and her gun in the other. Those nights were the hardest for both of them. (Also on FF)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gravity

**A/N: I used various key elements and situations from the show as a general guideline for the beginning of the story, but for the most part, its all my own variation of the end. Admittedly fluffy at points, but I’m actually writing this based off a dream I had the other night.**

 

He watched from the hallway as the door to her room opened slightly. Angel walked out with his head hung low, his right hand wiping tears from his eyes as he took his hat off with his left. In their little corner of the hospital, one could have heard a pin drop. With his back against the wall, he felt secure. Stable. He knew that if he moved, he might fall prey to gravity, just as he had done when his legs failed and buckled beneath him when he learned she had been shot. It was three days ago that he had confessed to her that he still had feelings for her, and she him. She had kissed him as tenderly as when they first admitted their true feelings for one another and it had sent a spark through him that he hadn’t felt since they broke up.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath in, and leaned his head back, firmly planting his palms against the wall behind him. His memory drifted to two nights ago when she showed up at his apartment asking if she could spend the night. _“Like old times…”_ she had said, smiling. _“I guess I need to keep my fat little sausage fingers off you, right?”_ he teased back. Still smiling, she shook her head. _“Not if you fuckin know what’s good for you.”_

It was as if no time had passed between that night and the last time they were together. He grabbed her by her cardigan and pulled her through the doorway into a searing kiss. She shut the door behind her and the two made their way to his bedroom, all the while, kissing and undressing themselves and one another. _“Oh fuck, Joey. Oh God…”_ she exclaimed as he entered her, his pace slow at first and then picking up his momentum as he began to thrust into her harder, while tickling the backs of her ears – something he had learned made her go _wild_ when they were together. She bit down on her lip in attempt to stifle her moans but couldn’t help let the smile escape her as she realized that he had remembered such a silly thing.

They lay snuggled up next to one another afterward, one of her arms and legs splayed across his body, both of them still trying to catch their breath. _“Morgan,”_ he had started. _“Mmmm?” “I don’t wanna fuck this up this time. I wanna be with you. Again. Let’s take it slow, okay?”_ He had actually been surprised at his own words. After all, it was only hours earlier that she found the engagement ring he had presented her with a few years back, hidden away in his desk drawer. She leaned up and kissed his lips, cupping his cheek in her hand. Rather than say anything, she nodded, and placed her head back on his chest. As he stroked her head, his fingers weaving through her hair, he couldn’t help but think that he had her back, and that maybe…just maybe; he would have a future with her.

His eyes fluttered open as he heard her door opening and shutting once again. He must have been lost in thought for some time. This time it was Masuka leaving her room, and he was walking straight towards him. Sniffling, he placed a hand on Quinn’s shoulder, “Listen man, I know you don’t wanna see her like that. But she’s askin for you.” “Sh-she…? “Dude…get in there. It’s Deb.” It was the first time he had ever heard Vince be even remotely serious. As he made his way to her door, he felt Angel give him a reassuring pat on the back. “Quinn.” He turned around to face his boss who was smiling back at him. “Tell her how you feel about her bro. That’s an order.”

Quinn opened the door, his eyes locked on the ground in front of him – not sure that he would be able to look at her in that hospital bed. “Well it’s about fuckin time,” he heard her say, and at that moment he lost it. He looked up and saw the woman he loved – the woman he was _in love_ with – and he came apart at the seams. “Oh fuck, Deb…” he said as he quickly approached her, taking a seat on the bed next to her, placing his arms around her torso, and resting his head on her chest. She was crying too now, as she wrapped one arm around his shoulders, and stroked his head with her free hand. “Shhhh, it’s okay. I’m okay. Fuck, Joey. I’ve never seen you like this. I didn’t know you were a fuckin cryba….” “I love you, Deb,” he said, cutting her off. “So fucking much.” He moved so he could place his hands on her face and brought her in for a deep and passionate kiss. She followed his lead, kissing him back just as fiercely. It was him who broke away first, leaving them both breathless and still teary eyed.

“Before you went in to surgery,” he began, looking deep into her eyes. “I don’t know if you remember what you said. Or if you meant it or if it was because of the fucking dr…” This time it was her cutting him off with a kiss. “I remember what I said. And I fucking meant it. I love you, Joey. I fucking love you.” The two shared another elongated kiss, and she moved slightly so he could lay next to her, placing his head on her chest, her cradling him, just as they were moments before – her playing with his hair with one hand, and interlocking her fingers with his with the land that was resting just below her chest.

“I didn’t tell you, Deb, but I was so fuckin scared in that ambulance. Seeing you like that. It fuckin killed me.”

“I was scared too,” she said. “Scared I wouldn’t get to be with you anymore.”

He rubbed circles on the top of her hand with his thumb – another thing he used to do whenever they would hold hands while they were watching movies together, or whenever she was sick or upset.

“I don’t know what I would have done without you, Deb. I know…I know I said I wanted to take things slow. But how I feel about you…it’s not gonna change…”

He was sitting up and facing her now, still holding on to her hand.

“Joey…” Her voice was small but confident.

“Debra Morgan, for the second time…will you marry me?”

Without a second of hesitation, she let go of his hand and brought her arms around his neck. “Yes,” she said through staggered sobs. “Yes.” She kissed him intensely, holding onto his neck for dear life.

He placed his hands on her wrists, pulling them off his neck. “Let’s make this right,” he said, as he took a small velvet box out of his pocket. He opened it and took out the diamond ring he had previously presented her with – the one she found tucked away in his desk at work – and slid it onto her left ring finger. He brought her hand up to his face and he kissed it over and over. She laid her head back on her pillow and pulled him down next to her.

They fell asleep in each other’s arms that afternoon, only to be woken by her doctor who informed them that her recovery may be complicated and prolonged due to the internal damage that the bullet caused. He stood next to her, holding her left hand in his right, as she explained various treatment and rehabilitation options.

“While I can’t guarantee anything regarding the length of time it will take for you to be completely healed, I do want to let you know of one potential complication,” Dr. Crouper began. “The bullet bounced around a lot, and while it did miss hitting many of your vital organs, there was significant damage done to your uterus. I don’t know if you were planning on having any children, Debra. But I did want to let you know that this may present as a problem in the future, but its nothing to be weary of right now. Just something to keep in mind.” At this, Debra squeezed Quinn’s hand tighter, taking a deep breath in, and nodding. “Th..thank you,” she replied. The doctor wished her well and assured her she would be back later on to check in on her, before excusing herself.

Replaying what the doctor had just told her, Debra brought her trembling right hand up to cover her face. “Wow,” she said as she let out a sigh.

He still had a smile on his face when he heard her reaction. The woman he loved…his fiancé…was going to be okay. He had assumed her reaction was one of happiness as well until he felt the grip on his hand tighten once more before her entire arm started to shake. “Babe,” he started, but it was too late. Debra started to sob; slowly at first, but then uncontrollably. “Oh God,” she said, over and over. “Oh God.”

“Deb. Deb. Shhhh. It’s okay. It’s okay. She said you’re gonna be okay. It’ll just take time. And I’m gonna be right here with you every step of the way.”

“It’s…Fuck, Joey. It’s…It’s not that…” she said, trying to catch her breath as he rubbed circles on her back.

“What, then? “What’s…” And then it hit him. She was upset what the doctor told her about the possibility that she wouldn’t be able to have babies. Truth be told, they had never discussed having children, but he had always wondered what it would be like to be a father. And he _did_ want to start a family with Debra – which is why he asked her to marry him, _again._

“Yeah,” she nodded, realizing that he had put the pieces together.

“I never thought I’d want kids of my own. Fuck knows what kind of Mother I’d be,” she continued, letting out a dry and humorless laugh. “But with you. I don’t know. I know we never even talked about kids when we were together before and I don’t even know if you even wanted any but now even if you wanted them…” she cut herself off, mostly because she hadn’t taken a breath, and he watched her through his own tear-filled eyes as she looked around the room, avoiding looking at him. “If _we_ wanted them,” she continued, emphasizing the ‘we’ as she brought her gaze back to him, shrugging her shoulders, “…I wouldn’t…I’m just broken.”

“Jesus, never in a million fuckin years did I ever think I’d be fucking crying because having kids might be impossible,” she said mockingly. “I just…fuck…”

“Hey. Hey, look at me,” he pleaded. “You’re amazing. The strongest fuckin person I know.” He leaned down and planted an elongated but gentle kiss on her forehead. “You’re not broken. Not at all. Christ, Deb, you have no idea…” his voice breaking, “…how much I love you. Let’s not worry about any of that right now, okay? We’ll figure it out later. Right now all I care about is making sure we get you better.”

She waited for a moment before nodding her head in agreement. “Okay,” she sighed. “Okay. I love you too, Joey. So much.” She looked down at her hand – at the sparkling diamond ring on her finger and smiled.

The next hour was spent telling their friends who were still hanging around in the waiting area about their engagement. Masuka made several perverted comments and Batista started to tear up. Captain Matthews gave Debra a hug and told her that her father would be so happy for her – making her well up with tears once again.

She was overwhelmed and quite frankly a bit shocked at all the love and support she and Quinn were getting from their peers, however the one person – the _only_ person – she really was really anxious about getting a reaction from…was Dexter. By this time he had probably finished taking care of Hannah. He was the first to see Deb right after her surgery and had left after they spoke, assuring her that he was going to properly get rid of her _for good._ Quinn held her hand as she called. He picked up after the third ring. “Dex, hey.”

“Deb, how are you? How are you feeling?”

“I’m…I’m okay. How did everything go?”

“It’s done,” he replied. “She’ll never bother us again. I’m gonna come back there now, okay?”

“Good. Yeah,” she replied, shaking her head. “I’ll see you soon.”

“You should talk to your brother alone first,” Joey said.

She nodded. “Wait for him with me?”

“I told you Morgan. I aint goin anywhere.”

She let out a slight chuckle.

“What’s so funny?”

“Pretty soon you won’t be able to call me ‘Morgan’ anymore,” she said as she interlaced her fingers with his.

“I guess not,” he responded, and he leaned in to kiss her deeply and passionately.

After about five minutes of intense making out, she pulled away from him, breathless. “He’ll probably be here soon,” she said.

He shook his head in agreement and took that as his cue to leave. He stopped once he got to the door, and turned to look at her. The day’s events had taken a toll on her, both emotionally and physically, and so her hospital bed had been lowered so she could lay more comfortably. Even with her hospital gown on, IV lines attached to her arms, and a breathing apparatus secured to her face, she had never looked more beautiful to him than she did right now. “I’ll see you in the morning, babe,” he said before exiting the room.

It was probably only five minutes later that Dexter was walking through her door. Debra had purposefully kept her arms pinned to her sides under the thin blanket that was covering her. The two chatted for nearly thirty minutes – talking about how she was feeling, what the doctor said, and exactly how he took care of Hannah. After a slight pause in the conversation, she knew it was time to tell him.

“Dex,” she said nervously.

“Yeah?”

“I’ve gotta tell you something.” Under the covers, Debra’s arms were becoming restless, and it was apparent that her hands were fidgeting. “It’s about Quinn…”

“You said the other day you two were getting back together. Has that changed again?”

“Not exactly,” she said, as she slowly began to bring her left arm out from under the blanket. “Quite the opposite actually.”

“Opposite? What do you…” He stopped when her hand was finally revealed and made its resting stop on his leg. “Oh”

The silence that followed was enough to make her go mad. She couldn’t tell if he was surprised, angry, happy, or a mixture of those and other emotions as well.

“Say something,” she begged.

“Deb…” he said, taking her hand and placing it between both of his, sending a shiver down her spine. “I want you to be happy. You deserve to be happy.”   
            She let out the breath she didn’t realize she was holding. “Really? You don’t think it’s a fuckin mistake or anything?”

“The past few months have been…”

“I know.”

“Quinn really cares about you, Deb. I didn’t realize how much until I saw how he reacted to what you were going through. I love you Deb. He does too. To be honest, I’m glad you’re with someone who is willing to risk everything to protect you.”

Even though it caused her a great deal of discomfort and pain, she leaned up to an upright position and lounged forward to capture him in her arms. He reciprocated her gesture and held her tightly. She wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that. All she knew was that when they released one another it was as if they had both realized that they were each free of their darkness – him of his need to kill, and her of her need to punish both her brother and herself.

 

xxxxxxxxxxx

 

A year later, on her wedding day, Dexter served a dual purpose in the ceremony that was held outside her beach house – both walking her down the aisle, and then taking his place next to her as her “best man.” Everyone had laughed and thought back to when she assumed the same role at his wedding with Rita. Harrison was asked to be the ring bearer, and Debra couldn’t help the tears from falling when she looked at him. Quinn picked up on this right away and squeezed her hand, a silent recognition of the past few months. The truth was, they should have already been married, but there had been some setbacks.

They had talked long and hard about starting a family in the months that followed their engagement. Many conversations ending in screaming matches, slamming doors, and scorching hot make-up sex. In the end, they decided to take everything as it came. After all, her recovery process was a lot more intense than either of them had anticipated. She was on her way home from physical therapy when she had a suspicion that she might be pregnant. Rather than take a drug store test, she asked Dexter to take her to the hospital – not wanting to tell Quinn and possibly get his hopes up. Sure enough, she was pregnant, and after cursing, crying, cursing some more, making comments about being a fat bride, and downing a 6-pack of beer all by herself – her last night of normalcy, she called it – she had Dexter bring her to house where Quinn had moved into, and she told him the news. She had never seen him so happy, and his reaction made her start to cry all over again.

“I’m scared,” she admitted as they lay in bed that night after having extremely passionate sex.

“I am too. I am too.” He pulled her in close and they drifted off to sleep.

            Approximately three months into the pregnancy, she _knew._ Quinn had just gotten out of the bathroom when he noticed she wasn’t in the house. He looked through the sliding glass doors and saw her standing on the sand a few feet away from the patio, facing the crashing waves. He walked over to her and was only a few steps away when he recognized the all too familiar sound of her stifled sobs. He looked down and saw that she had both arms wrapped around her belly. “Deb?,” he said quietly. But she didn’t answer. Taking another few steps so he was now standing in front of her, he brought his hands and placed one gently on her arm, the other on her stomach. “Deb?” he repeated.

            “Something’s wrong,” she said; her voice as small as a child’s. “Something’s…” but she couldn’t go on. Without speaking – without needing to – he brought her into his embrace before walking the two of them to his car, taking off for the hospital and calling Dexter while on the way, telling him to meet them there.

            When the doctor confirmed what she knew, Debra’s reaction – or lackthereof – scared Quinn. His typically deeply emotive fiancé was not known for her ability to remain silent, but that’s exactly what she did. Remained silent. Quinn, on the other hand, waited until the doctor was out of the room before punching the wall in front of him, his face turning red with anger and despair.

            By the time Dexter got to the hospital, Quinn had gotten nowhere in getting Debra to tell him how she was feeling. Not sure where the impulse to do so came from, Dexter extended his hand out to Quinn, and when he took it, the two shared a brief and solemn hug. “I’m so sorry.” Dexter said. “Is…how is she?”

            “She wont talk to me, man. I just. I don’t know how to help her.” And at that, Quinn broke down again. Dexter gave him one more reassuring pat on the back, and walked past him and into Debra’s hospital room. He sat at the edge of her bed and took her hand in his. She was staring in his direction but her eyes were empty. Vacant. It was another two days before she was able to bring herself to speak, but in the meantime, Quinn would hold her close as she cried at night, and Dexter would comfort her during the day – giving Quinn some time to grieve on his own.

            They had just gotten back to their house when she turned to face him. “If you don’t want to marry me, I understand,” were the first words she had spoken since being told that they lost their daughter.

            “What? Deb are you kidding? You think I wouldn’t want to marry you because…What happened was not your fault! You can’t blame yourself. Please. Please, baby.” She let out a strangled cry and brought her hand to cover her mouth in an attempt to muffle the sound but he simply removed her hand and kissed her lips. Her cheek. Her neck.

            “I fuckin love you, Joey,” she said as he continued to kiss her frantically.

            “I love you too.

            They pushed back their wedding date so she would have some time to physically and emotionally continue to heal. Some days were harder than others. Some were unbearable. On the nights when she felt particularly guilty, Joey would wake to find her sitting on the floor of their porch, rocking herself back and forth, a bottle of whiskey in one hand and her gun in the other. Those nights were the hardest for both of them.

            On the night of her wedding, she asked him to do something that she had once swore she would never say again.

            “Make love to me, Joey.”

            “With pleasure, Mrs. Quinn.”

            


End file.
